


honey and milk were all we needed

by kaipou



Category: NCT
Genre: Angst, Dorms, M/M, Realization, Roommates, markhyuk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 18:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaipou/pseuds/kaipou
Summary: Mark never felt sorry for missing Haechan like the way he did.





	honey and milk were all we needed

**Author's Note:**

> -this is loosely based on a famous fan theory of something that took place between Mark and Haechan during 2k17. you can search it up in youtube about it. however, this is only a fan speculation so take it as a grain of salt.  
> -as i mentioned before, this does not portray real-life characters or events. it is only a fiction.  
> -finally, this is a lot personal to me since what mark felt was the same things i felt during a time. the dreams still haunts me.

 

 

Mark slightly pushed down on the bed, his weight leaving an indentation on the bed-sheets. He slowly wandered his eyes over to the male who was sleeping soundly beside him, whimpers dissipating with the autumn air of the room. Mark had pulled the blankets a little higher, slowly pushing inside the material and rested his body against the pillows. The male beside him faced away yet Mark could trace his every features just by the tip of his imagination. He was a bit tanned, bathed under the silver radiance of the moon, only to highlight his contoured nose bridge and the sharp profile. He had a bit baby fat around his cheeks but that didn’t seem too profound. His eyes were holed to dark circle left under his eye bags, which were covered with caked makeup during daylight. If Mark could have, he would have left those natural blemishes stay.

 

Mark had a quarrel with him that day, just over some petty thing was bought up. He didn’t like it, when he raised his voice, said indifferent words only to make the other close his mouth. He didn’t want to make him upset, because it would only result in pointless regrets. The quarrels were usual then, occurring often during the day and nights which made sleeping together on the same bed difficult. Haechan, his name, were uttered through curses and the tears that clung to his cheeks were itching to be brushed away. Mark never wanted to see that face again; the face struck with pure sorrow and disappointment. Mark wondered if he had seen that face somewhere. He remembered it was the same face that was painted on his visage which reflected on salon’s mirror of that morning.

 

That morning was not extraordinary. He had argued with Haechan, yet again, about something that was not worth to be memorized. It had surged to calling names, with Mark’s fists shaking in fury and Haechan irises painted in gray. The other members who shared the same dorm with them tried to interfere, but it was only futile. Mark couldn’t control anymore, as his hands raised to touch the cheeks of the latter but it stopped, fortunately, mid air. The latter flinched, as tears fell stringed with each other. He didn’t remember what happened next, as he heard scoldings from managers, words coaxed to his tensed shoulders and that picture of Haechan staring at him. It haunted him as a blur, appearing as an afterimage he wished to forget. He was pulled reluctantly from the room.

 

He never wanted to leave Haechan there alone, even if he had his eyes blinded with darkness.

Haechan never looked so bewildered and he wondered whose fault it was.

 

Empty coffee cups and half-eaten desserts as money were stashed under worn-out leather folder, Mark left the cafe with a heavy heart and an empty void drilled inside his body. He heard, Haechan had requested to change his roommate, Mark, for another member of the group. The manger had invited him to a cafe to spill the beans like so. Mark couldn’t believe what he heard at first however it wasn’t completely unheard.

 

_Your fights were going out of hand. If the word spills out, we can be slacked so can you tolerate some slash from the upper hand. We decided it would be better for you change your roommate. I suggest Jaehyun, seemingly because he was worried about you. Today is your last day, so make the most of it._

 

Mark, was an idiotic being. He walked beside the banks of the Han river, his mind trailing to the nights they had spent together, alone and cooped under the blanket fort. His finger trailed against his skin while the other giggled, since he was simply tickling him. Where those carefree laughs had disappeared, Mark hadn’t had a clue. If it was during those hectic schedules, that their friendship had being shrunk into a simple colleague relationship, Mark couldn’t notice it at all. Those pesters he had brushed away from his shoulder and the time Haechan wanted to say something which was left to rot in that empty room, Mark admitted he didn’t know well.

 

Mark wanted to go back because he felt everything would fell to its slots once.

 

But then again, it was he needed. That space that stretched out between Haechan and Mark during, the times they had sung together and the times they had looked at each other. The gap was of course formidable, it burned to get close . As he watched the tranquil silent waves, dancing on the surface, Mark knew it was never to be old.They were as well as broken to pieces that are not going to be the same pieces of the puzzle.

 

There was a message on his phone. He opened it to find a voice mail, from the person he missed the most during that time. The space beside him, on that bench was too empty to ignore. What he heard was a small snippet of what the latter felt. The words that were ever so carefully chosen, lacked enthusiasm and was mere painful. Mark listened, over the whirr of the autumn wind and the rustle of the red foliage that hovered over him.

 

Haechan recited, ever so gracefully:

 

_I will sing you a song._

_Sometime later when we get alright just like we were._

_But what lies in the future we don’t know well enough, but would_

_you care enough to remember us?_

_Perhaps, it is our smiles that were painful the most_

_Or my eyes that haunts you._

_Yet, I wish these are the sentiments that will flow with you_

_On the streets you walk on_

_Because Ill be there_

_Waiting for you at the end._

__

Mark returned home, that night, awfully late. The tears dried on his skin long before, remaining as a dirt of memories.

 

He snuggled under the covers, snuggling beside the boy who slept so deep. He threw his arms over the boy’s stomach, weeping against his back and tears drenching the latter’s white crisp t-shirt. He wounded his figure with his lethargic, pulling him close against his chest. His chest, where his heart had been burned to ashes.

 

If he could hear a little close, he could hear the small sobs the boy had let out, which were silently piled under the whistles of the wind knocking against the window. The boy turned towards him, facing him with his eyes shut tight. He squirmed a little under the weight of perspiration that layered along his contours.

 

Is a small murmur of his lips, that Mark had caught,

 

“Don’t cry.”

 

“I miss you”- _I missed you_

 

Mark wasn’t mistaken as the latter’s snaked along his back, patting it softly. Mark pressed his lips against Haechan's crown, as the auburn hair tickled his nostrils. Haechan mumbled against Mark’s chest,

 

“I don’t hate you.”

 

Mark wished if every words, were genuinely said. Mark slept well, for a long time, seconds were stopped to count. Dreams were broken to nothing but small fragments of their memories pieced together to a long black and white film, they had shared.

 

 

Morning quietly blessed the room with it’s golden rays, and the covers beside Mark were empty. When Mark woke up, there were no one beside him left alone in that small dorm of theirs.

He drunk a glass full of water, gulping as his eyes wandered around the furniture that seemed so useless.

 

The sticky notes were lined up beside each other, on top of each other yet Mark could find one directed to him.

 

_Donghyuk left yesterday evening. You seemed a little drunk so I left you alone on the bed. Drink your milk and assemble at the practice room._

_-DY_

__

Mark repeated the voicemail for the nth time that morning, listening to it so attentively. Picking every words, dissecting it and finding the honey coating over each tone and rhythm. He found himself smiling, as the knots of his heart were finally untangled as his words were revealed to no one but himself. He only pacified himself of the reality that seemed to escape through his finger gaps.

 

He held the phone close to his lips as he muttered some words he thought that moment. Perhaps everything would return to the things that were, with their emotions only remaining as a facade.

Mark wanted Haechan to remember, the things that happened.

 

Because that was how, Mark could ever tell Haechan that he loved him with every ounce of courage he had.

 

_For you were so beautiful,_

_Your eyes that looked at me,_

_Your hands around my waist_

_I missed you._

_The dreams that had no time,_

_You existed for an eternity._

__

 

 


End file.
